


Craig Eats Detergent

by Sally_Pally



Category: South Park
Genre: And tweeks there to support him, Creek is more like a side thing, Descriptions of eating, Its based on the meme but serious, Its more about Craig working over his self hatred, M/M, Pica, a lot of research went into this, my first fic ever, slow updates most likely
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 21:24:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13598676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sally_Pally/pseuds/Sally_Pally
Summary: Craig Tucker has a secret. It’s been eating away at him from the inside out for months. When this secret is accidentally revealed, Craig has to now face head on something he’s been trying to ignore. Normal kids don’t want to eat detergent, why does he?





	Craig Eats Detergent

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the Craig Eats Detergent meme by SPKin on tumblr. They’re all ten. It’s kinda angsty at the beginning, but as the story progresses it gets more hopeful and happier. This is kind of modeled after what an actual South Park episode on this would be like, so expect shitty humor.  
> This will probably be edited after it is released because I’m not good at making edits.

 

Clyde threw his controller down in defeat. “It’s not fair! How are you so good at this?” Clyde plopped down onto Craig’s couch. He muttered a few obscenities under his breath and crossed his arms.

  
“M-m-maybe if you spent more time p-practicing, you wouldn’t be such a n-n-noob,” Jimmy gloated. Clyde blew a raspberry at Jimmy, who only laughed in response.

  
Craig looked between his two friends. Clyde did have a point, Jimmy was crazy dexterous and had unbelievable hand-eye coordination. Most games of Smash involved Clyde being completely eliminated within the first minute and a ten minute showdown between Tweek and Jimmy for first place. Today Tweek wasn’t here to play, his family had some sort of coffee competition they had to attend to upstate. Craig wasn’t too upset, they texted regularly, and he knew Tweek would be back in South park on Monday. For now, he was just glad that he could get second place in Smash.

  
Token shot a glance at the clock. “Hey guys, are we going to go to bed soon? It’s almost two in the morning,” He asked.

  
Jimmy’s eyes shot open wide. “Mr. Garrett is going to m-m-m-murder me! Our track meet is tomorrow!” With that the other boys decided it would be a good idea to go to sleep too.

  
The four boys lay on Craig’s game room floor. The room was completely silent, save the sounds of Clyde’s snoring. Everyone was asleep except Craig. Craig lay on his side completely motionless. He had to do it. He had to, but he couldn’t. If he left the room now his friends would hear him, and they would see what he was planning on doing and they would hate him.

  
Craig scrunched up the blanket on top of him. He was angry at himself that he couldn’t control himself for one night. Why did he have these urges? No normal kid would be wanting to do what he wanted to do. His mind was rapid flipping back and forth between wanting to stay put and rushing to the laundry room.

  
“I can’t give in, I can’t,” Craig whispered to himself, “I have to be strong.”

  
But Craig Tucker wasn’t strong. Craig Tucker was a stupid weakling who couldn’t conjure up the strength to stop himself from doing things only freaks did. He slipped out of the game room and proceeded to the laundry room.

  
He slowly closed the door behind himself. Craig let out a breath of relief. Even if he hated the before and after of what he was about to do, it always made him feel better in some twisted way.

  
Craig jerked his head around. He had heard a sound coming from behind him. It wasn’t one of his friends, thank god, just the creaking of his old house. Part of him wished that he had seen his friend standing in the doorway, wide-eyed and terrified of what they saw. That they would finally see what Craig’s been hiding for months. He quickly shook that thought away. It’s better if they don’t know.

  
Craig crouched down and opened the dryer. Here he would begin his ritual. He preformed it almost every week for the past three months. It started with him removing the lint trap. He scrapped as much lint out as possible into his open hand. It wasn’t much, barely a mouthful.

  
When he started out doing this, there was more lint. He didn’t do it as frequently, so the lint had more time to accumulate. Sometimes he would even bring leftover lint up into his room to eat during the day. He shoved what little lint he gathered tonight into his mouth.

  
When he first ate lint, he assumed that it would feel like cotton candy melting in his mouth. It wasn’t like that, not even close. It was hairy and there were chunks of god knows what in it. It was like eating freshly picked cotton, seeds and all. He still ate it though.

  
Craig had even developed a technique for eating the lint. He would let it sit in his mouth for a few minutes, getting wet and soggy. Then he would begin to separate little pieces of it, so that it was easier to swallow. Craig sat and savored the feeling in his mouth. It was so alien, yet so familiar.

  
Once the last bit of lint was swallowed, Craig got up. This was his least favorite part of the whole ordeal, aside from the horrible shame and humiliation he felt afterwards. Craig was a fairly tall kid for his age. He stood at 4’11”, taller than any of his classmates. Despite his height, Craig couldn’t reach the tops of the tall cabinets in the laundry room. He had to climb to reach them.

  
He placed his hands on top of the washing machine. He took a few deep breaths, and hefted his body onto the machine. Craig winced as the metal groaned under his weight. He stood still, half on half off of the machine, to ensure that none of his friends heard the noise and came looking for him. After a few moments of complete silence, Craig continued on his way up. Once his entire body was resting on the washer, he cautiously began to stand up. He didn’t want to move too much and make another sound.

  
Craig slowly opened the cabinet doors, fearing of creaking noises that would wake up his friends. There it sat, like always. Craig could swear the thing was mocking him with its very existence. The container of Tide Pods seemed to beckon him, begging to be ingested. Craig never succumbed to the temptation, primarily out of shame. His friends sent each other memes about eating tide pods, and them being the ‘forbidden fruit’. He always laughed along, like any normal kid would, but he knew that if his friends knew that he did, in fact, want to eat Tide Pods they would shun him. Who wouldn’t?

  
He felt awful every time his friends texted a meme about Tide Pods. It was like they were laughing at him, making fun of him. The only thing he could do to separate himself is to not actually eat the pods. If he ever ingested one, they really would be making fun of him. The rational part of his brain knew that his friends weren’t intentionally poking fun at him, but there was always a voice in the back of his head insisting that they already knew what he did and that they thought he was a freak.

  
Craig turned his attention towards his actual target for that night. Laundry detergent, or as his mom liked to call it ‘Washing Powder’. He could barely remember the first time he had it. It was at school, one of the janitors had left the powder detergent out. To this day he doesn’t know what compelled him to taste it, all he knows is that he did. And he tried it again, and again.

  
He took the little measuring spoon and dipped it into the white powder. Before he would just eat as much as he wanted, but then he overheard his father complaining about the detergent going down too quickly. After that, Craig only ate a spoonful of the stuff at a time. He held the spoon, his fingers trembling. He licked the tip of his index finger and pressed it into the dust. Craig sucked the powder off the tip of his finger. It tasted weird the first time he tried it, but the more he ate it the more he became accustomed to it, even beginning to enjoy its taste. He did this repeatedly, like how a child eats fun dip.

  
Before long the spoon was empty. Craig went to place the spoon back in the box, but his hand jerked and knocked the box out of the cabinet. Craig leapt to get it. He stretched his arm out as far as it would go, but it was too far away. His body flew into the drywall on the opposite side of the small room,  
making an audible thump. He fell onto his back with another thud. Someone in the house had definitely heard that.

  
He watched as the box of detergent crashed onto the floor, it’s contents spilling everywhere. Craig was too dazed and hurt to care that he just made a giant mess. The pain he was feeling was taking up most of his attention. Craig was pretty sure he had broken his nose upon impact, and his wrist felt like it was sprained. He laid on the floor, hoping that everyone had simultaneously gone deaf and that no one heard the noise. He didn’t want someone to find him in this position, he would never live it down.

  
The door creaked open, and he turned his still throbbing head towards it. Tricia stood in the doorway. At least it wasn’t one of his friends who found him in his pathetic state.

  
Tricia cupped he hands and turned away from Craig, “Mom! Dad! Craig is bleeding!” Craig wiped his nose with his sleeve. A dark stain appeared on his light blue pajamas. Yeah, definitely a broken nose.

  
Craig pushed himself into a sitting position, cringing at the feeling in his right wrist. “I’m fine,” He flipped of his sister who immediately returned the gesture.

  
“You look like you got run down by an eighteen-wheeler. What were you even doing here?” Tricia was glaring at him and the mess he had made.

  
Craig groaned, “Nothing.” He didn’t want to admit why he was up at two in the morning, in the laundry room, with an open box of detergent next to him.

  
Luckily, or unluckily, before she could press him further on the subject, the rest of the household came to gawk at him. It was embarrassing when it was only Tricia, now all his friends could see his humiliation. His dad and mom quickly rushed to his side.

  
“How bad is it?” His mom asked. His dad was busy turning Craig’s face, so he could get a better look at the wound. He flipped his wife off and she did so in turn. 

Thomas got up, “Broken nose and a sprained wrist, probably. Looks pretty bad too. We’re going to have take him to the emergency room.” Craig gulped. He didn’t want to go in and see a doctor. While he could hide his habit from his parents, he couldn’t hope to hide it from a professional.

  
“We want to go.” Token said taking a step forward. Jimmy and Clyde nodded in agreement.

  
“No. No. It’s fine.” Craig said, hoping to dissuade his friends from accompanying him. He really didn’t want them to be near him.

  
His mom thought for a moment, “While taking three more ten year old boys to the emergency room in the middle of the night than necessary isn’t my idea of a good time, I don’t think Thomas is going to want to stay home to watch out for you three.” Thomas nodded in agreement.

 

The car ride to the emergency room was hellish. Not that it was loud or obnoxious, quite the contrary. Tricia spent the entire ride absorbed in a TV show she was watching on her phone, and Craig’s friends were too tired to talk much.

  
Craig’s stomach was twisted in a knot. He didn’t want this to be happening, he didn’t want to have to reveal his secret in front of all his friends. The only good thing about this situation is that Tweek  
wasn’t here. He could live with the shame of his family and friends knowing, but he couldn’t let Tweek know. Not now, not ever.

  
They arrived at the urgent care center after only a few minutes of driving. The lobby was empty save for the annoyed looking receptionist. His parents told them to wait in the chairs while they talked to the receptionist.

  
“I’ve never been to an emergency room before. This is kinda cool,” Clyde said. His eyes were darting around the room, trying to take in the scenery.

  
Token leaned back in his chair, “Not really. Emergency rooms are never fun.”

  
“When did you n-n-need to go?” Jimmy asked.

  
Token pointed to his gut, “Cartman shot me, remember?”

  
Jimmy nodded, embarrassed that he forgot that his best friend was shot. The four boys (plus Tricia) sat in relative silence for the next few minutes.

  
After a minute or so of waiting a nurse came out and called Craig’s name. Craig got up. He glanced back at his friends who all gave him reassuring grins. He stepped into the doctor’s room.

 

An average looking man with blonde hair and a square face walked into the room. He sat down on one of the chairs and pulled out a clipboard. He began to speak in an overly enthusiastic voice, “Hiya! My name’s Dr. McGee and I’ll be checking you out today! Seems as though you broke your nose and sprained your wrist, how’d that happen?”

  
There it was, the dreaded question, right off the bat. Craig pondered whether he should tell the truth, or keep ignoring his problem in the hopes that it’ll eventually resolve itself. “I was in the laundry room and I fell.” Craig crossed his fingers and hoped that the doctor wouldn’t press any further.

  
His hopes were bashed when Dr. McGee asked, “And what were you doing in the laundry room? Why’d you fall?” He leaned in closer to Craig. This was an emergency room visit not an interrogation.

  
His parents nodded. “Just tell the doctor what you were doing. We won’t be mad,” His mom said. She put her arms around his shoulder. That made Craig feel a little better.

  
“I was eating…” He muttered.

  
The doctor held his hand up to his ear, “Couldn’t hear you!” Craig flipped him off.

  
“I said,” Craig took in a deep breath, “I was eating.” He immediately regretted his decision. He should’ve just lied and said he was trying to run away or something. That would be less humiliating than the truth.

  
The doctor made a face. That did not help Craig feel any better. “Eating what?” He asked.

  
Craig balled his fists. He was backed into a corner. Either tell the truth and look insane, or ignore the question and look crazy. Craig looked over at his parents. Both of them were looking at him lovingly. Craig looked the doctor straight in the eyes and said in his normal monotone, “Detergent.”

  
The doctor stifled a chuckle and his parents looked taken aback. The doctor made no attempts to regain his composure, “Like, like those freaks on My Strange Addiction?” Craig furrowed his brows, but nodded.

  
The doctor slapped his knee. “I’m sorry, I just lose it every time a freak with pica come in here. It’s just so funny!”   
All three Tuckers in the room flipped off the doctor. He held his hands up in defense. “Hey, hey. I just think it’s funny that your son has no self control whatsoever. Here, I have a couple of pamphlets on pica I can get you.” He turned around and dug some papers out of a drawer. His dad took them.

  
“Now. What about his nose and wrist?” Thomas asked.

  
The doctor shrugged, “Use ice and rest. It’s not a big deal. Just make sure the freak over here doesn’t eat any of the ice.” He tapped Craig with his elbow. The doctor got up and held the door open for them. Craig made the walk of shame down the hall and into the lobby. He really didn’t want to see his friends right now. At least his parents didn’t seem completely disappointed in him.

  
“Now,” the doctor said in a loud voice, “Be sure to not eat any more detergent. Also, be sure to look at the flyer I gave you for the doctor that specializes in pica. She can help you with your freaky detergent eating habits. Detergent! I still can’t get over the fact that you eat detergent! What a freak!”

  
Craig felt his friends’ eyes on him. There was no chance that they didn’t know about his habit, the doctor had just screamed it out. The car ride back was even more awkward than the first. Everyone wanted to talk to Craig, but none of them were speaking up. Craig would rather deal with his friends and family pestering him than them occasionally giving him pity glances. 

  
When they got home, they all dispersed into wherever they were sleeping and acted if nothing had happened. Craig wasn’t sure if he wanted them to not care or if he wanted them to talk to him. He lay back down on the game room floor, and stared at the ceiling. He wondered if he could’ve done something to avoid this, or it was all inevitable. Craig wished he could go back in time and stop all of this from happening. He didn’t want his friends to view him as some sort of freak (even if that’s what he was). He turned over onto his side and closed his eyes. Hopefully this would all just blow over and everyone would forget about his embarrassing secret. 


End file.
